


Who We Are

by journeycat



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Protector of the Small - Tamora Pierce, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4786619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeycat/pseuds/journeycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If she had known then that these things happen, would they have happened with him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who We Are

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SMACKDOWN: Team Wyldon in February 2010. A play on Michelle Branch's song, "Tuesday Morning."

The moon hung low and full in the sky, casting a kind of ghostly illumination into the room. _Traitor’s moon_ , Keladry thought, and hugged her knees. It was past midnight and she should be asleep, but what little sleep she had was plagued by nightmares until finally she had given up. So she had been sitting here for the better part of almost two bells, staring up at the pale moon in the sky and listening to Wyldon’s rhythmic snores. 

Against her will, Kel glanced over at him. He was sprawled across her bed with the covers kicked off his bare body. Her eyes traced the puckered, jagged scars that marred the hard canvas of his belly, scars she had traced with her hands, with her mouth. From both a fellow knight and a woman’s point of view, she admired the rough sinew of his muscles, arms that bore the marks of her nails, legs that entwined with hers. It was a humid, hot peak-of-summer night, and drops of perspiration glistened on his skin; she remembered how he tasted, salt and earth.

Kel tightened the thin sheet around her, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down her back. She was so tired, but it was the kind of exhaustion that repelled sleep and teased and taunted. It was all beginning to catch up with her: the summer heat, one of the worst in Corus history, and then her unceasing worry over New Hope, and all her friends still yet to be called from the border—

—and of course Wyldon, whose mere name was enough to cast her back into memories of drowning in his bed, of his calloused hand gently smoothing the hair back from her brow and whispering gentle words when he thought she was sleeping, of his hot eyes and how he felt more passionately and more deeply than she could ever imagine.

He muttered something in his sleep, his brow wrinkling in a frown before smoothing out. She studied him a moment longer, before finally sliding down off the windowsill and crawling into bed with him. He instinctively wrapped his arms tight around her, pulling her body hard against his so that she could feel every contour of his thighs and stomach and chest. 

She was asleep before a minute passed, and did not wake up when a couple hours later, Wyldon gently untangled himself from her, kissed her cheek, and left.


End file.
